


In A Different Life

by misha_anon



Series: Cheesy Tropes Challenge [11]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 30 Day Cheesy Tropes Challenge, Alternate Universe, First Meetings, Gen, It's a Terrible Life!verse, No Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2014-07-01
Packaged: 2018-02-07 02:03:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1880928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misha_anon/pseuds/misha_anon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Smith first meets Castiel in a dream.  At least he thought he did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In A Different Life

**Author's Note:**

> _There's a "who" where there should be a "whom" but I try to avoid using the latter in all but my most formal writing. :-)_

Dean knows he's dreaming.He thinks he knows, anyway.It _feels_ like a dream; everything more vivid and louder than it ever is in the real world.He's running.From something?He's sure of it.He's never run this fast for fun.His heart thumps in his constricted chest and the back of his neck prickles with fear as he skids around a corner, clutching at the strap of the messenger bag slung across his body.

He doesn't dare look back, eyes fixed on the blood-red door a block in front of him.There's safety behind that door.What kind of safety and from what - or who - he has no idea; he only knows he has to get there.His muscles burn with exertion and his lungs are on fire, but he pushes himself faster, faster, faster until he's there, beating on the door.With the loud thump of his fist, comes the sound of footsteps from the other side of the door and behind him.Dean glances over his shoulder to see a manwith a gun leveled at him still half a block back, then he's jerked through the blood red doorway.

"Are you all right?"The question comes from a dark-haired man who is busy slamming the door and locking it now that Dean is safely inside.

"I - I think so," Dean pants, sinking to the floor.Relief floods through his body as he wipes the sweat from his face and tries to still his shaking hands.The dark-haired man kneels beside Dean and takes his face in both hands, his brow furrowing as he studies Dean's face.

"I'm Castiel, the house medic," the man says, his blue eyes searching Dean's as he begins to trace his fingertips and the pads of his thumbs matter-of-factly over the bones of Dean's face and skull before testing his collarbones, then down his breastbone and across his ribs.

"Dean," Dean answers breathlessly, slumping back against the wall and closing his eyes to get away from Castiel's steady blue stare.He takes a deep breath and opens them a moment later when he remembers the man chasing him."There was a guy..a guy was right behind me."

"He can't see through the blood on the door.Don't you remember?" Castiel gives a tentative smile and tilts his head, his fingers making a maddeningly slow trek down Dean's arms one at a time, squeezing lightly.  

"Yeah," Dean mumbles, his mind racing.He didn't remember that.He didn't even know it _was_ blood; he'd assumed it was paint.Dean looks up at the Castiel crouched over him.He seems familiar, this blue-eyed man, but Dean doesn't know why.It _all_ seems familiar.It can't be familiar, though, since this is a dream.

With a sigh of relief, Castiel says, "You seem uninjured."

"I'm fine," Dean says, pushing Castiel's hands away and rising clumsily to his feet as he pulls the messenger bag from around his body.He waits for Cas to stand up, too, before he pushes the soft leather at him.

"Is everything still in here?"Castiel takes the bag and opens the flap, though his eyes never leave Dean's face.Fear runs down Dean's spine like an icy chill again; he doesn't even know what's _supposed_ to be in the bag.When he doesn't answer, Castiel looks away and starts to reach into the bag.

*

Dean Smith's alarm clock screeches, jolting him from his dream and leaving him scrambling to shut it up.He rubs his eyes and tries to ignore the twist of foreboding in his stomach.Two minutes later, he's out of bed and beginning his morning routine.Though he moves methodically through each step just like every other morning, when Dean steps into the shower, he can't help but dwell on his dream, specifically his blue-eyed medic.

There was something about him, something surrounding him, something that was _definitely_ familiar to Dean.It's almost as though they had known one another in a different lifetime.Dean snorts and washes the soap out of his eyes.He gives his hair one last rinse under the shower's stream and turns it off.A different lifetime he thinks again with another derisive snort.He decides he's _got_ to stop falling asleep with the TV on.

The commute to work is - as usual - full of traffic snarls and stupid drivers and near-collisions.By the time he makes it to the Sandover Building, Dean has forgotten all about his weird dream with its bloody doors and people out to kill him and blue-eyed medics.In the elevator, he gives himself a pep talk, completely oblivious to the people staring at him.When the doors open on his floor, he pastes a smile on his face, squares his shoulders and starts toward his office.

Dean Smith nearly drops his briefcase when he sees the man sitting at his secretary's usual desk.The man has unmistakably messy hair and vivid blue eyes and he's looking straight at Dean, a familiar furrow in his brow.The only thing different from the medic in Dean's dream is that _this_ incarnation is wearing a business suit and a tan trench coat instead of jeans and a t-shirt.

"Hello, Dean," the man says with a smile.

"Mr. Smith," Dean corrects automatically, a tingle of indignation at the audacity of someone who absolutely does _not_ know him calling him by his first name.The man's head tilts and his smile falters.

"No," Castiel says, his rough voice filled with the patience one would expect when dealing with an obstinate child. "I'm Castiel."

 


End file.
